


You Will Be Sorry For Defying Me

by darkandgritty



Category: The Boxcar Children - Gertrude Chandler Warner
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:36:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandgritty/pseuds/darkandgritty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate universe, detailing a crime of opportunity.  Bad things have happened to girls without guardians throughout history.  This is an idea of what might have happened if she had fallen into the wrong hands.  This will be M, and will have seriously trigger(s) and related warning.  Second in my "Ruin Your Childhood" series. Jessiecentric, and triggeriffic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jessie Alden sat on the edge of the dirty mattress, fretting over her little sister. She moved her hand once more to Violet's forehead and drew her hand back quickly. The fever was rising. Jessie rose, moving to the other side of the boxcar that had been the home of her and her siblings for the last 5 weeks.

She knelt next to the sleeping form of her youngest brother, and carefully pressed her palm to his forehead. Breathing a little sigh of relief, grateful for small favors. He had been ill too, but so far only with unusual exhaustion for a boy of his age, needing extra naps. Jessie had turned thirteen earlier that month, though over the last few weeks living in the boxcar and behaving more as a Mother, then a sister through the hardships she had faced, she felt far older then her years.

Between the confidence of her maturity, and the fear she felt for her little sister, she made a choice she had been fighting with all day long. Violet needed medicine. Henry, her older brother, had told her to stay with their siblings, but he would be home from his job chopping wood at a neighboring farm any time. Dusk was settling. Violet and Benny wouldn't be alone for long, and by the time Henry was back, and had enough time to be angry with her, she'd return, with medicine that would bring down their sisters dangerously high fever. 

Digging through the little box of treasures they had found while searching for useful items in the dump, she found the broken pocket watch that Benny had found. The case was silver, and though the glass was shattered, she was certain she could make a trade for medicine. Securing it carefully in the pocket of the patched jacket she wore, and turning her attention to jotting out a quick note for Henry.

Henry -

Violet's fever is too high. I'm going to run down to the town, and trade the watch for some medicine. I'll be back soon.   
Love,  
Jessie

 

She signed it with her usual flourish, accomplishing it with a little difficulty due to having only the rejected nub of a pencil to work with, the paper the back of a receipt from the town grocer.

Leaving the note on Henry's pillow, she moved to give each of her younger siblings a kiss on their foreheads. One cool and balmy, the other burning her lips. Her frown grew, and she whispered a little prayer, before pushing the door of the box car open. Wincing at the squeak and making certain that it hadn't woken either of them, before hopping down to the ground. Sliding it gently closed behind her, and glancing up to the position of the sun as it bid adieu. 

The night was unusually quiet, the chill in the air beginning to quiet the many insects and birds that had shared their symphony all summer long. She hurried through the main section of the dump, jumping when she heard a dog barking in the distance. 

Something in her stomach clenched, and she froze, beginning to glance around, her eyes having trouble adjusting to the dark. A deeply unsettled feeling beginning to inch over her. Seeing nothing amiss, she continued past the gate of the dump, and down the dirt path that led to the main road to town.

Laughing off her concerns, she tightened her hand around the watch and quickened her steps. Doing her very best to ignore the squeezing against her feet. Despite lack of the best quality of food, she had grown, and the tightness of the leather of her shoes, and the snugness of the blue cotton of her dress reminded her of those changes. She snuggled the coat around her tighter, and paused as she heard a branch crunch behind her.

She turned quickly to see the source of the sound, and she froze when she realized she was no longer alone. A man, shrouded by shadow, but clearly as down on her luck as she was, by the filthy rags that covered most of him, and the unwashed desperation that clung to him stood not fifteen feet from her. She gave him a little nod, not saying a word, but turning and quickening her steps. Her heart beginning to pound. 

It was his ragged breathing that alerted her that he was in pursuit, and she broke into a run. Counting her blessings when she lost him, but not stopping her run until she found herself just on the outskirts of town, bending, her hand clenched over her stomach as she tried to catch her breath and calm the burning in her muscles.

"You all right, little lady?"

She raised her eyes to see a handsome man, no older then twenty, walking in her direction, a look of concern on his chiseled features. He was tanned, and well dressed. A gentlemanly hat removed by him, as he approached carefully. 

"Can I get you some help?"

None of the concern that had met her when the drifter had been as close vicinity met her. And she relaxed, giving him a little smile. 

"Maybe. I have a watch to sell, and I need to get some medicine for my sister. " Her words a little breathy as she still struggled to catch her breath. "Do you know somewhere that would be able to help me with that?"

He laughed, nodding in response. "You just happened to come to the right person. My Father owns the antique shop in town. He's not there right now, left for home, and had me lock up. His hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring of keys, and shaking them with a musical jingle, before replacing them, and moving to offer a hand to her.

"Barrett Patterson. "

She gave him a grateful smile, relieved that she had found someone who was able to help her, taking his hand eagerly.

"Jessica Alden. Everyone calls me Jessie."

He smiled in response, giving her hand a little squeeze. "Jessica is a beautiful name. And you're a beautiful girl. How old are you?"

She wasn't sure what made her lie, but before she could prevent it, the fib fell out of her lips. "Sixteen. I'm sixteen."

He grinned in response and nodded. "Good. If you were younger, and this pretty, I'd be worried for mankind." He laughed and offered her his arm, and she took it, blushing a little, and letting him lead her down the street, winding her way through the dirt path that led to several houses. Barrett guided her to a large white washed house, a couple of the front windows were boarded up, but she thought nothing of it. Times were hard economically and wooden boards were significantly easier to come by then new panes of glass, when money was scarce.

He unlocked the door and held it open for her to step inside. He closed the door behind them, and moved to light the little oil lamp on the table near the entrance. Her eyes adjusted, and she reached into her pocket and handed over the watch, giving him a smile.

"I can trade this for some aspirin, can't I?"

He gazed down at the watch studying it carefully and nodded a little in response. 

"This'll buy a lot of aspirin. It's real silver."

Jessie smiled triumphantly. "Thank Goodness. I hate to rush you, but I need to either get the aspirin or the money to go and buy some… "

He reached around and into the back of his pants, she assumed for his wallet, but she was sorely surprised when instead he pulled out a revolver, pointing it at her, a tell tale click of warning.

She stepped back in terror, raising her hands up as she backed away, eyes like saucers., He murmured lightly, his voice surprisingly calm.

"Now Jessie, no one has to get hurt. A pretty girl like you.. a handsome man like me? I think we'll become very good friends."

She paled, and all of her brothers veiled warnings of never being alone with a man rushed back to her, and the excitement of the attentions of the handsome stranger was ebbing away, with the last of her courage. She took a deep breath, and grabbing the lantern she swung it at him, letting it go after it made contact with his shoulder, the oil splashing, and unfortunately the flame extinguished in the moment, and they were shrouded in darkness as she tried to push her way to the door, hearing him crash to the ground behind her.

An inch from the handle, she was certain of her escape. She would run to the police station, and tell them what had happened, she'd get her watch back, and maybe the police officers would help her with her sister. The fear of being delivered into the hands of their cruel grandfather seeming sillier and sillier by the second, now that she had tasted true danger.

A hand snaked around her ankle and pulled her down to the ground, and she cried out as her hip received the brunt of the fall, slamming down into the dusty wood of the floor. She yelped, and tried to kick her self free, but in a moment he had climbed his way atop her body and pinned her to the ground, He was breathing heavily, blood on the side of his temple where she had hit him. He used his grip to lift her a little, smashing her cruelly against the floor.

She cried out at the pain of it, struggling to free herself, but to no avail. His eyes flashed and he straddled himself over her, struggling for breath from the scuttle. His voice having lost all of it's earlier friendliness and familiarity.

" You seem eager to be enemies, Jessica. And I thought we could be friends."

She blinked back tears of fear, as he pushed the skirt of her dress up, his finger tips pinching the flesh of her thigh until she cried out in pain, still struggling to cover herself, and get out of his reach. His strength pinned her easily, as his hand moved up her thigh, beginning it's own journey of discovery as tears spilled down her cheeks, as she yelped, pleading and begging him to stop.

Her words fell on deaf ears, and as she retreated into the shell of her soul, the last thing she remembered hearing was his promise. 

"You will be sorry for defying me."

And on the floor of the house she had thought held safety and promise for the safety of her family, he made certain to follow through on his words.


	2. Chapter 2

Hours had passed since her virgin blood and tears had baptized the dusty wooden floor of the strange house with the monster who had hurt her. Jessie had been despondent during the encounter, only crying out when the pain came to be too much, or when he had slapped her to draw her back into the moment with him. The moments of clarity were hell and she preferred the times when she could disconnect from the unimaginable suffering happening to her body. 

He had lifted her off the ground when he was done and she had wept as he carried her up a narrow set of stairs and into a bedroom. Depositing her on the bed like a sack of potatoes, and turning on his heel she had listened to the clicking of his boots, cringing at the sound of the heavy footfalls and the turned key in the lock that followed after a slamming of the door.

Numbly she had looked around the room, finding only a boarded window, and a small bed with a filthy mattress, no sheets or pillows. Only a brown wool blanket that may have started it's life as a white blanket. The filth of the room was discernible. She couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since someone had scrubbed the floors thick with dust, and what the bloody stain on the center of the mattress seemed to be.

Realizing pretty quickly that the bed had probably been used for something similar to what had happened to her, but weren't most women virgins when they were taken to bed? Would she beed every time, or only when she was hurt? Her questions mixed with the horror of what had happened to her. Sitting silently as she fixated on things like the crack of the vase on the bedside table. The dead rose wilted and browned. Studying it closely, unaware of how long she had been doing so. It could have been minutes, or hours, and she would have no idea, but the sound of steps on the creaky steps brought her to attention and she drew herself back toward the headboard of the bed. Her body beginning to quiver as the key fit in the lock and she heard the clicking. Raising her gaze to the man who had done this to her silently.

He stepped inside, kicking the door closed behind him. She jumped at the sound and squeezed her eyes closed, drawing her knees up to her chest, the remnants of her dress bloodied and torn from his attack on her. A whimper at the pain of the movement and the terror bubbling inside escaping from her lips. He paused, and growled. "You made me do this. See what you made me do?" Crossing the space between them and glaring at the stain on the bed, mistaking it for her own blood and moving to shove her legs apart to look at the damage sustained there. Her shaking grew and she struggled as best she could to prevent him but to no avail. Even before her attack she wasn't capable of physically overpowering him, and they both knew it.

Sighing after taking a long look at his handy work, and unfolding the stained blanket he threw it over her legs. Muttering. "Stupid bitch. You made me do that. You couldn't just be sweet, and I had to…" 

Sounding as if he was half trying to convince himself of her guilt. She was silent, slowly opening her eyes to face the man who had terrorized her. Face pale, and eyes wide. She had lost a fair amount of blood. He seemed to consider the best course of action, and finally sat down on the edge of the bed. His hand digging into the interior pocket of his jacket. Producing from it a metal flask. "This'll help you feel better. We got travelin' to do tomorrow." Turning the top of the flask until it was open and handing it over. She had never drank anything. Even when her brother had stolen a sip of champagne at a New Years party she had turned down the opportunity. Unwilling to do anything so unacceptable. But as it was now, she took the flask and tilted it back, swallowing as much of the liquid fire as she could before he took the flask from her hands and patted her back as she coughed. Eyes flooded with tears as she gasped for breath. Managing weakly between her coughs. "Poison?" 

His dark laughter filled the room and he grinned as he answered. "Gin." Jessie coughed and laid back down as the heat travelled from her throat down to the base of her belly. Gazing up to the ceiling as he moved to lay down beside her. She trembled and with drew to the far edge of the bed, before his strong arms pulled her against him again. His voice a little hiss. 

"You're gonna be spending the night with men every night for the rest of your life little Miss Jessica. Get used to it." She gritted her teeth, horrified by the promise in his words, but not struggling against him any more. Just laying there, her muscles taut as the alcohol began to numb just the fringes of her pain.

" Now that we know each other a little better, why don't we try this again…" His voice was hot against her throat and smelled of rum. There must be another bottle of liquor somewhere in the house she found herself thinking. Anything to put her mind on something other then him and his wandering hands. And what he had done, and what she was certain he intended to do again. " I think you lied to me, Jessie… And I don't like to be lied too." 

Terror coursed through her at the cold malice in his voice, and she gazed up to him. Her brow furrowed. Her mouth opening to defend herself against the allegations. Before she could make a noise his hand had swept up her front and moved to encircle the front of her throat. She peered up to him in horror. Tears glittering in her eyes. She was fairly certain she was going to die on this bed, by the hand of this monster and she struggled as his hand tightened, his tongue moving to moisten his lips before he spoke. " I don't think you're sixteen." 

He moved his face closer to hers, his fingers tightening around her throat. She struggled for a breath, a strangled cry escaping her lips. His whisper was oddly tender. "You don't have very long, Jessica. Tell me how old you are, or I'll have reason to start digging a very deep hole in my back yard." He punctuated his words with a light kiss to her forehead. 

She blinked back her tears and as his hand loosened, she gasped, her voice hoarse and bearing a quality she had never known in it before. Something she couldn't yet identify. "Thirteen."

Hand twitching and a grimace contorting the features of her attacker, he paused to digest that information and muttered. "Fucking stupid little bitch…" Moving to pull her close to him his hand around her throat still, but just resting there. Not tightening, but a constant reminder of his ability to snuff out the candle that was her life at any moment. He was silent for a few minutes as he held her close to him in the bed. Her fate clearly beginning to sit heavily on his mind. 

Finally his voice again broke the silence. "Thirteen. Why the hell did you say you were sixteen? Christ… You made me do this." Jessie just stared up to him. Not saying another word. What could she say to his psychotic allegations? 

" You don't look thirteen… and I wouldn't have been so rough with you if you hadn't thrown that lantern at me." He justified his actions his eyes flashing, his closing around her throat. Not tightly, but reminding her it was there, as if she could forget the danger for a moment. " If you'd been honest and sweet to me, well, you'd probably be on your way with your aspirin and a smile on your face. Everything that happens.. from tonight and however long it is 'til you die, I want you to think about that. You did this to yourself." 

He held her close to him and loosened his hand from her throat, and eventually began to stroke her dark hair as she began to cry into the filthy mattress. Not another word was spoken for nearly an hour before a knock on the door interrupted the silence she had finally settled into. The sobbing, and being held in the arms of her rapist as she wept had drained her, and she had somehow mercifully drifted off. She sat up as much as she could with his arms still wrapped around her, he stirred too, having also drifted off in the filthy bedroom. She realized too late that she had missed an opportunity, but she was certain it was the place come to save her. Managing to cry out, her voice still raw from the close calls with his fingers, she still managed surprising volume. "HELP! HELP ME!!!!!!"

He backhanded her and she fell back to the bed, blinking at the taste if iron in her mouth. She gazed up to him, the room lolling in and out of view, he'd hit her harder then she had realized, and she managed to whisper. " The police.. they've come to save me…." Her words slurring from the alcohol and the impact, and perhaps from the shock of it all too.

Laughter filled the room and it began to shrink on her sights as consciousness fought with her. Hearing his amused words, the hope that had given flight in her heart quickly freefalling, it's wings cut. His words repeating in her mind over and over again.

"Those aren't coppers… they're my friends. They ain't here to save you. They're here to sample the new goods."


End file.
